The Trouble with Hating You

by Sajni Patel

  “Have you dropped by her place?”

  “Yeah, but…” Reema looked over her shoulder and asked, “Do you mind?”

  Kaajal placed a hand on her hip. “I believe that you interrupted us. Do you mind?”

  “Yes, I do mind.”

  “Hey, what’s going on over here?” Rohan slipped through and landed an arm around Reema’s shaking shoulder.

  “This is important, so please, give us some space,” Reema said to Kaajal.

  “Um. Okay,” Kaajal mumbled and stepped away as I told her, “I’ll talk to you later.”

  She barely nodded. I felt awful until she daringly looked at me and raised her chin, her voice having lost its quiver, and said, “Call me for that coffee.” With a wink at me and a glaring scowl at Reema, she meandered away.

  “I’m not quite sure I know what just happened,” I muttered.

  “Why did you treat Kaajal like that? What did she do?” Rohan asked Reema.

  “She’s trying to get in between Jay and Liya,” Reema responded.

  I choked out, “What? No, no, no. You have it all wrong. There’s nothing between us, with either woman.”

  “Wait a minute. You asked us to go to bat for you,” Reema said.

  “And thank you for doing that, but Liya made it perfectly clear that she’s not emotionally available for anyone. There’s no reason to keep trying, not when she puts up a fight every step of the way.”

  “Did something happen, then? She stopped talking to us a few days ago,” Reema said, worry creasing her brow.

  “Our second and last date. She ended it. Good run, though,” I added dryly.

  “She’s gone MIA since,” Sana added softly.

  I exhaled a rough breath and dragged a hand down my face. “Are you making this sound worse than what it is?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Liya never shuts down,” Rohan confirmed.

  I shook my head. “What do you want me to do about it? She doesn’t talk to me unless she’s spitting fire.”

  “She still goes to work?” Reema asked.

  “That’s all she does.”

  “Okay, then. Hit her where she can’t run.”

  “Why would I want to take part in this? She made it clear she wants nothing to do with me.”

  “Because you broke her,” Sana said.

  My heart shattered at the accusation, at just knowing that Liya was in a bad place. “No. I absolutely did nothing to physically or emotionally hurt her. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “But you must’ve gotten to her. No guy has ever made her close up.”

  I hated to think that I had had anything to do with harming Liya. How could anything ever get to her, pry through her deftly constructed layers? But if I had something to do with her current state, then how could I leave it alone?

  I marched across the fifth floor, earning a few curious looks from passersby and a haggard-looking Wendy. I waved and walked right past her into Liya’s office as I tugged on my suit jacket. All I had to do was ask a few direct questions and I’d know for certain if I had hurt her in any way.

  That was the plan. In and out. But the moment I registered Liya bent over her desk, I halted dead in my tracks. She leaned over her chair and read files, her blouse sagging in the middle but any cleavage masked by a cascade of black waves. She tugged on her lower lip with her teeth and tapped the desk while humming.

  A grin spread across my lips. Look at her, all sexy and hardworking.

  I stopped in front of her desk. She stopped humming and peered up at me.

  “Hello,” I said.

  She straightened up. “What are you doing here?”

  “Do you know how concerned your friends are about you?” I asked.

  She furrowed her brows. “I’m busy. They know that.”

  “They think you’re avoiding them.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So they sent you? Talk about a fan club, Jay. You’ve got all the ladies in your court.”

  “Look, I’m going to be direct, and I’d appreciate some directness in return.”

  “Sure.”

  “Did I hurt you?” I asked gently.

  She paused. “No.”

  “Do I have anything to do with your current reclusiveness?”

  “You’re quite full of yourself.” She scoffed. I saw right through her, though. Her walls were coming back up.

  “Directness, Liya. Your friends seem to think this is the case.”

  She looked skyward, her lips puckered—her telltale sign that she was about to give me some serious, undeserved attitude in a circumvented response.

  “Don’t do that,” I stopped her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Whatever you’re about to say that is not an answer.”

  She walked around the desk and stood toe-to-toe with me. She smelled of flowers and spice and a certain sweetness that my tongue tingled to taste. Despite how much we fought, my body always responded to her. She woke me up. I came to life. My heart beat as if it had never beat before. My pulse sizzled, my veins throbbed, my gut tightened.

  And it was vexing—absolutely, insanely vexing. I hated it.

  She said, “I will speak with my friends. You don’t have to worry about me, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come here outside of work-related issues.”

  “Don’t worry. With lawsuits in full force, you won’t have to see me much longer. But I came because I was concerned.”

  “You’re like a puppy.”

  I scoffed and looked at my watch. “This puppy has a date in twenty minutes.”

  “Sure you do.”

  “Across the street at the café with Kaajal.”

  Her jaw clenched.

  “If you feel the need to see proof, drop by,” I said and left.

  Liya didn’t snoop around, and that disappointed me. Despite the accomplished and well-respected Kaajal in front of me, who didn’t hide herself and offered her entire background story, I found myself scouring the café for Liya.

  The coffee date came and went, as boring and disenchanting as I’d presumed it would be.

  Every day afterward, I fought the overpowering desire to go to Liya’s office with breakfast, to stay late with her. When we had to take up space in the same room during the weekly meeting, she was more distant than ever.

  Every time she walked by, she did so with her head held high and her gaze always ahead. We never made eye contact, but her flowery perfume lingered long after she’d walked past. The scent took me back to all those non-dates, all those moments where we’d been around each other and where she had lowered her guard even the slightest.

  And that made me miss her even more. I found myself glancing at her in passing or at meetings, willing her to smile or laugh, to see that shimmer in her eyes, to hear her voice again. I even found myself wanting to argue with her. Anything.

  I left my tie and jacket in the car and headed up to her tenth-floor apartment. She didn’t answer after several knocks, or even after a few texts. But her gray Lexus was in the parking lot and light glowed through her closed curtains.

  I paced the hallway. Was this stalking? Was I going too far? Would she think I was off my hinges?

  I sighed. Well, the truth was…I needed to tell her the truth.

  The front door finally opened, very quietly, as Liya ducked out of her place in a short, tight, cherry-red dress with shoes and lips to match.

  Those lips. Good lord.

  She jumped when she saw me, her hand clutching her purse like she was about to take a swing.

  “What—what are you doing here?” she asked, closing her door but not yet locking it.

  “I’ve been texting you, waiting out here like a—”

  “Desperate weirdo?” she asked, her words toughening up her appearance.

  “I can’t get you off my mind.”

  “Says the guy who walked away and—”

  “You wanted me to! You’re still making all kinds of excuses. Hypotheticals in wo
rse-case scenarios. Tell me what that’s about.”

  “No.”

  I arched my head back and took in a deep breath.

  “Am I taxing you? I have to go, I have a date.”

  I slowly returned to her. “With whom?”

  “None of your business.”

  The thought made my stomach turn inside out and leak acid all over my guts. Some other guy was going to have her attention? Be on the receiving end of her smile? Touch her? Kiss her?

  “Yes,” she stated.

  “What?”

  “That look on your face? You’re wondering if we’re going to have sex, and yes, we will.”

  I mentally shoved down a lump of anger and jealousy. “So you really don’t want us to be together?”

  “There is no ‘us,’” she declared.

  “Why don’t you just tell me to my face that you don’t like me.”

  Her glare turned hot, her cheeks flushed, her lips pressed, holding back a heap of icy words.

  “I know that you assume the worst about me, Liya. That I—if I have my facts straight—am just after you for sex, I wouldn’t support you no matter what shady history came out, that aforementioned shadiness would make my poor, weak mother distraught—”

  “Now wait a minute—”

  I took a step toward her and interrupted her just as quickly as she’d interrupted me. “Because obviously my mother has to be weak if a few rumors can dismantle her. Which means I’m just as weak. I’m so consumed with what others think that the mere thought of displeasing strangers makes my balls shrink? I guess? I’m not man enough to stand up for you? Or would I be so thoroughly disgusted with your history that I wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of you?”

  She tapped a foot and glared at her watch. “You’re making me late. Any more patronizing analysis that you want to throw at me?”

  I released a harsh breath. “Your friends are convinced that you’re depressed, that I had something to do with it. And I am so sorry if I did.”

  “Don’t give yourself that much credit.”

  “Is this what you do? Have sex with whomever to make yourself feel better?”

  She opened her mouth to bite into me, but her words deteriorated into nothing.

  “No matter how much I like you, and Liya, I really like you, I have no right to tell you not to sleep with another guy. But don’t. Please.”

  “Because it’s harmful behavior?” she gritted out. “You don’t get to tell me what’s right and wrong. My sex life is none of your business. We are not dating. We are not friends.”

  In an instant, I had her soft body crushed against mine, one hand around her waist and the other on her jaw. Her breath hitched, and all the fight left her.

  I tilted my head, my mouth close to hers, and said, “If you want therapeutic intimacy, then you can get it from me, not some random idiot who probably doesn’t want anything more or who doesn’t see anything more.”

  “You think you see more?” she sneered.

  “I see so deep into you, Liya, that you can’t hide yourself from me. Even things you don’t want me to see. I love every piece of beauty, every imperfection, and I can’t get enough.”

  My lips crashed down over hers. I meant to be sensual and slow, but she was hungry and so was I. Our kiss was deep and passionate, my tongue sliding over her bottom lip and tangling with hers. A delicate moan escaped her and a deep one rumbled through my chest. Liya tasted every bit as sweet as I had expected.

  Her fingers fisted in my hair as she pulled me into her, desperate and dominating. Searching through the dizziness and battling for control over myself, I managed to pull away and slow the kiss. Sensual. Sweet. Caring.

  I nipped her bottom lip and sucked, her gasps slowing as she caught herself.

  “What are we doing?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know anymore.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “You’re not this quiet, lost person. Where did you go?” I cupped her cheek and searched her eyes for the vibrant, full-of-life fighter that was somewhere in there.

  “Most people like me to shut up,” she said quietly.

  I grunted, “Not me. Where’s the snarky, smart-mouthed, opinionated woman?”

  “She’s still here.”

  “I miss her,” I confessed.

  She craned her head back. “You miss that woman?”

  “The world feels incomplete without her.”

  She momentarily glanced away, her lips quivering as if she were trying not to smile. “You talk like a man who has it bad.”

  I caressed her cheek as I let go. “I am a man who has it bad.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Liya

  I’d like to believe that the half-empty bottle of wine on the coffee table was to blame for my light-headedness. But I’d be lying.

  I’d never been kissed like that before, with urgency and passion, and something that stirred my entire being right down to the bones. Other guys had given me the roller-coaster feeling, the need to hurry up and release as soon as possible. But with Jay? I wanted this phenomenon to slow down and last for eternity. It was as if my entire life had been broken into obscure pieces and his touch brought everything together, clarified the whole, and made me stronger.

  He watched me from the other end of the couch, patiently waiting for me to speak. When I couldn’t, he lifted my feet onto his lap and rubbed the soles. The massage on the arches was delightful and erotic, and I just about lost my mind.

  I wanted him to go higher and send those wondrous fingers and lips to scour every last inch of my body. My chest ached. He made it hard to breathe, to concentrate.

  “How’s your ankle?” he asked.

  I gave him a sheepish smile. “Is that why you’re rubbing my feet? Concerned?”

  “Why else?” he asked, his eyes never leaving mine as his hands slid up my calves, massaging as they went. So much of me wanted him to keep going, all the way up, unraveling me bit by maddening bit. Instead, he promptly returned to the arches and the once-injured ankle.

  My skin burned. “Didn’t you say that if I wanted to get intimate with someone, it would be with you?”

  “Intimacy doesn’t have to be physical.”

  I almost face-palmed. How did he just say that to me? “Do you not see what I’m wearing?” I arched my back, displaying a tight, deep neckline, and crossed my legs over his lap so that the already short hem rode even farther up my thighs.

  He closed his eyes and bit his lip, but then raised his hands. “Intimacy with me is not quick, meaningless sex.”

  “But what if that’s what I want?”

  His gaze fell upon me with penetrating eyes that pierced straight to my soul. “Is that all you really want from me?”

  “It’s a start,” I teased.

  He laughed. “I’m never quick. And meaningless? That doesn’t work for me.”

  “Ah…so you tricked me?”

  “Are you going to kick me out?”

  I smiled, feeling those hardened layers around my emotions soften just the tiniest bit. All right. Fine. It wasn’t all that bad to have a decent man around, to know he wasn’t going to be another one-night stand. Not that it meant I was ready to admit such a thing out loud. “How would Kaajal feel about you being here?”

  “She probably wouldn’t care. She was annoyed that I didn’t pay any attention to her during our coffee date,” he replied.

  “Oh?”

  “I was distracted.”

  “By what?”

  “By you. Waiting for you to walk in, wondering where you were, what was wrong.”

  I sipped my glass of wine.

  “I really missed you,” he confessed. Yeah, I had missed him, too.

  Dragging my finger over the back of the couch in patterns, I admitted something to both myself and to Jay, not really knowing why I wanted to share. “I missed you, too. But you need to understand why this won’t work.” No more secrets. He had to know about Mukesh, about how awful
things could get for his family if he chose me over Kaajal.

  Jay caressed my leg. “I don’t care what others think. If it hurts you, I’ll talk to them, but only because I don’t want you to hurt.”

  “So calm, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I almost punched someone for saying something.”

  “That is the problem, isn’t it? It bothers you. You shouldn’t have to defend me all the time. And what about your mom? I don’t want to be the cause of any pain if she heard how vicious some people can be toward me.”

  “Ma is strong. She doesn’t take any crap.”

  “Jay. There are some terrible things in my past. Things that almost destroyed me, things that destroyed my relationship with my parents. And they will come out.”

  “So tell me first.”

  I swallowed. Hard. How did someone go from never trusting a man to telling one about being assaulted? By the most respected man in the community? What if Jay didn’t believe me? I blinked back a tear, suddenly realizing how fast my breathing had become.

  “It’s okay,” he said softly and took my free hand, the one that I’d clenched into a fist. “I’m not going to judge you or blame you.”

  “Will you believe me, though?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  “You say that now—”

  He sighed. “Stop. We’re past this. Stop assuming how I’ll react.”

  “Okay. How about I tell you in the morning? When I’m refreshed and less tired and mentally prepared?” Because even though I couldn’t quite bring myself to say everything aloud, I really wanted to tell Jay the truth that very few people knew.

  “Deal. If…”

  I groaned. There was always an “if.”

  “If you answer this question: Are you sleeping with anyone now?” he asked, both gently and sternly.

  “No.”

  “Do you want to be?”

  “Are you asking me to?” I bit my lower lip, which didn’t go unnoticed by Jay. Lord help me, it would be impossible to deny him if he even hinted with the slightest nod. How incredible would he feel? Even if he walked away the day after, or a few weeks later, or months down the line, having gotten all the physical goods before getting bored, this entire thing might still be worth it.